


On The Rooftop

by seasons_of_supernatural



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Female!Crutchie, First Kiss, M/M, Post-Canon, rooftop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23178247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasons_of_supernatural/pseuds/seasons_of_supernatural
Summary: More than a year after the strike, Jack gets an unexpected visit from a friend.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	On The Rooftop

The New York streets have a bit of a chill to them, a sign that summer’s starting to end. Well, good. October’s the best month for selling papers, anyway. Not as hot as August, and Halloween superstitions make for a nice flashy headline. Sell a hundred papes, easy, and with Pulitzer buying them back, yeah, it’s not a bad deal for the kids. Jack, of course, is still drawing his cartoons, but he’d never abandon the Newsies. Not after last year.

Jack pauses next to a streetlamp and takes in the sights around him, the buildings and the stars that you can’t quite see if you ain’t up high above everything and the air that smells like something curled up and died in every corner of the city. It ain’t as nice as Santa Fe, for sure, but it’s home. It’s where the people you care about are, and that’s gotta count for something.

“Boo.”

Someone’s hands are on Jack’s shoulders, and he whips around, ready to swing, only to find Davey standing behind him and grinning like an idiot. Jack sighs and leans against the streetlamp. “ _Jesus_ , Davey.”

Davey raises his eyebrows. “Did I scare you?”

Jack brushes off the question and starts walking, leaving Davey to follow. “Hey, how come you’s out this late, anyway? Ain’t you got folks to get to?”

“Couldn’t sleep. I left them a note. Hey—where are we going?” Davey jogs to keep up with Jack’s quick pace and long stride. 

“You’ll see,” Jack says over his shoulder. “We’re almost there, come on.”

They come to a stop in front of the old ladder and Jack starts climbing, then looks back and extends a hand to Davey. “Comin’?”

Davey lets Jack help him up to the rooftop (Jack tries to ignore how soft Davey’s hand are, how nicely they fit in his), and Jack points up to the almost-black sky. “Look at that. Pretty, ain’t they?”

Davey follows Jack’s gaze. “Yeah,” he murmurs, eyes transfixed on the thousands and thousands of stars above them, thrown haphazard like splatters of paint across the sky. “You know your constellations?”

“My what?”

“Constellations,” he repeats. “Like that one, there, you see that spoon thing?” He nods his head toward a clump of stars, and when Jack squints he can sort of see a handle. “That’s the Big Dipper, and there’s the Little Dipper, over there—”

Davey keeps yammering about the stars but for once it’s hard for Jack to keep his head in the sky, ‘cause the stars up there ain’t got nothing on the ones in his friend’s eyes, and damn, he looks kinda beautiful in the moonlight. But he can’t think about Davey like that. Not his best friend, not any guy, for that matter. Ain’t no place in the world for two boys having a love affair, even if Davey did feel the same, which he doesn’t, because he’s far too sensible for someone like Jack. He tells himself over and over, it can’t happen. No use staring, no use dreaming. But he can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away.

“And—and Cassiopeia,” Davey’s saying, “that crown over there, and then, that one that kinda looks like a fish, that’s Pisces, and then there’s—

Davey pauses, meeting Jack’s gaze, and for the life of him Jack can’t bring himself to turn away. “What?”

“You sure know a lot about them stars, is all,” says Jack, even though it’s not all, not even close.

Davey laughs, and Jack thinks he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t, everything’s quiet except for the sounds of the city. And now Davey’s staring, too, and all of a sudden they’ve gone from talking like friends to just standing there, inches apart on the rooftop like there’s no one else in the world. And maybe there isn’t. Maybe everything else’s just an illusion and it was always Jack and Davey, alone together, staring and staring and staring.

It would be so easy. To lean forward, close the gap, up here where no one could see. He could do it.

And Davey would let him, he realizes, after all this time, he'd let him. And Davey would do it back.

“It ain’t a good idea,” Jack says finally. “I want to. But it ain’t, you know that.”

“And what is it that you want, exactly?”

The question sends a jolt through Jack’s spine and he bites his lip, trying to find the words. “I wanna kiss you,” he blurts, and notices how Davey’s eyes dart to his lips when he says it. “And I know we can’t. It’s too risky. Even up here. But…” He fights the urge to step forward, to do it then and there. “I want to,” he finishes, barely above a whisper.

Davey reaches out, settling a hand on Jack’s shoulder, and Jack sucks in a breath. “So do it.”

So, he does.

Davey responds instantly, reaching up with his other hand to twist Jack’s hair in his fingers as Jack takes him by the waist, pulling him in. The wind should be nipping at them but Jack can hardly feel it; Davey is all warmth against him, slow heat, like those nights when you finally come home and there’s a fire lit like everyone's been waiting for you. It’s messy and reckless but there’s a sort of grace to it, a rhythm, and Jack thinks, _this is long overdue._ He kisses Davey harder, pushing him against the wall, and Davey melts into it, exhaling a soft _ah_ at the contact. Jack slides his hands underneath Davey’s shirt, and then, and _then_ -

“Hey, Jack, you too busy makin’ out with yer best friend, or are ya gonna help yer sister out here?”

_Shit._

They break apart far too quickly, Jack brushing off his shirt and pants without thinking. “I should go,” says Davey, red enough for Jack to see it in the moonlight.

“Good idea,” Jack says, pointedly avoiding Davey’s eyes and rushing to the other side of the platform to grab Crutchie’s hand.

“Thanks, Jack. Hiya, Davey!” Crutchie adds brightly as Davey scurries down the ladder, acknowledging her with barely a nod.

“So,” she begins once Davey’s gone.

“So.”

“So.” Crutchie prods him in the arm, and much to Jack’s surprise, she’s grinning. “You and Davey, huh?”

“That a problem?”

See, most folks don’t like two guys getting together. Jack doesn’t know if she’s one of them. God, he hopes not.

Crutchie laughs and puts her arm around him, and Jack remembers that Crutchie ain't most folks. “‘Course it ain’t a problem, Jack, I want you to be happy. And if that means you’re kissin’ Davey ‘stead a some girl, well, fine. Long as he has you home by midnight.”

Now it’s Jack’s turn to laugh. “Ya know I love you, right?”

“Course, Jack. I love you, too.”

Jack takes out the blankets and drapes them over the two of them. “Night, Crutchie.”

“Night, Jack.”

And _most folks_ be damned, Jack closes his eyes and sees Davey, and for once he isn't letting go of a dream.


End file.
